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We’re identical twins, we were jocks, we were brains, we were big fish in a little pond (San Saba) and all these decades later, we’re still crazy about each other. Yeah, yeah, most identical twins are over-involved (not to say tangled the fuck up) with each other, but Cos and Day Metz have an additional factor:
We were premature, which is not unusual for multiple births, but we both had troubles once we were born. I had … more trouble, even with the miraculous incubator of modern medicine. The first 24 hours dragged on, and Cos was hanging in there, but I was losing yardage. Finally, Dad said, “Goddammit, put them together in the same incubator. They did fine together for seven and a half months, and the trouble only started once they came out the chute and you fucking doctors separated them.” Mom was with him all the way, but Dad was the spokesman because he was more intimidating. So they put Cos in with me. Within minutes he managed to put his arm over me, and my vital signs stabilized. We have pictures and medical records—DATA—so this is not just a family’s oral tradition.
That was just the beginning. Oma and Opa had two cribs waiting for us, but we weren’t having any. If we weren’t in the same crib, we … complained. In Oma’s words, “Dear Lord, you were six pounds each—how could you possibly create that much noise? And there were TWO of you!” So the family surrendered. I--Damian—survived because Cosmas could touch me. It was a sign from God. Toddler beds? Apparently we played along at bedtime, but by morning, we were in the same bed. Once we got started growing, we got bigger, so Mom could leverage us into twin beds, but the beds were shoved together.
But this is a CFNM board, right? Hold on, I’ll get there.
We hit puberty on the early side of normal, so by the time we were thirteen, we were worth at least one and a half grown men, and we got respect. Dad remodeled the ranch house to give us the lower level--with a few actual windows—and keep peace between us and our sisters.
Cos and I have always adored Debbie, a year younger, and Ann, two years younger. We would read to them, long before we could actually read—we could figure out stories from the pictures, for Pete's sake—and have bath time together, and play tea party, and eventually put together Barbie’s Dream House. But face it, four tweens are a recipe for territorial conflict.
On the lower level, Cos and I had our bedroom with a study area, our own ¾ bath, and a rec room with study area, TV and sound etc., which we were pledged to share with the rest of the family AFTER dinner--considering homework--and at other times of the day WITH our OK.
Well, the day came when Cos and Day, almost 14, had been busting our butts on the end-of-summer ranch work, and had been dismissed because of our youth, and went to take a hot fucking shower. Our “beloved” sisters, with friends—I forget exactly how many—were watching TV in the Metz twins' SPACE, dammit. As we entered our bathroom, we called out, “Debbie! Annie! We love you but this is before dinnertime, and it’s OUR SPACE!”
Answer came there, “Yeah, yeah.”
In the shower together—we were twins, we were scarcely different people, and the touch of our skin was reviving, and calming, and energizing, whatever we needed from each other—it was time for strategy.
“What the fuck?”
“Calm down, bubba, I know what to do,” I said. “This is OUR space. We don’t have to prove nothin’. Just act like it’s ours.”
“What … ?”
“We finish our shower, we walk out into our TV space, drying ourselves off, and sit down. Then we say, ‘What are y’all watchin’?’
“They gonna holler.”
“Yeah, they gonna holler. But it’s our space, and whether we be naked or not is our business, not theirs. Nothin’ they ain’t already seen from when we was takin’ baths together.“
“ ’Cept maybe a little hair.”
“An’ who cares about a little hair?” I leaned in to embrace my brother. The embrace was magical. The skin contact was miraculous.
And it all happened, just like I predicted. “You’re NAKED!” “So what? It’s our space until after dinner, we can be naked if we want.”
They all fled upstairs. Cos and I laughed.
So that was my first experience with CFNM. More to come.
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